


Place Your Order

by through_shadows_falling



Series: Supernatural Ficlets [27]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Barista Castiel, Castiel is a Little Shit, First Meetings, Flirting, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-19
Updated: 2015-07-19
Packaged: 2018-04-10 03:34:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4375607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/through_shadows_falling/pseuds/through_shadows_falling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean shifted his weight as he stared up at the menu, the enormous menu with all kinds of words that made no sense. It was always great to visit with his brother, and hell, Dean loved him some good coffee, but this place was hipster as hell. </p><p>Which was to say, it was definitely not Dean’s kind of place, that was for sure.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Place Your Order

**Author's Note:**

> Based on [this Twitter post](https://twitter.com/TsukiNekota/status/584422532247355392) by tsuki-nekota and endversecas.

“Come on, Dean, just order something.”

“What the hell is a venti?”

“Dean. Seriously.”

“Fine.”

Dean shifted his weight as he stared up at the menu, the enormous menu with all kinds of words that made no sense. It was always great to visit with his brother, and hell, Dean loved him some good coffee, but this place was hipster as hell. 

Which was to say, it was definitely not Dean’s kind of place, that was for sure.

No, Dean was more the rough-and-tumble type, which was why he’d thrown on the same clothes he wore yesterday - jeans, a black t-shirt, and a blue jacket. Unlike all the uppity schmucks in here, in their fancy blazers and pressed khakis and gelled hair. 

No wonder Sam loved this place. The kid was a lawyer and fit right in.

“Oh my god, Dean,” Sam said as he shouldered past him to step up to the counter. A line had formed behind Dean, and he stepped back to wave for everyone to go ahead of him.

Most of the people behind him said nothing as they passed, but one of the men - a handsome one, of course it was a handsome one - raised an eyebrow at Dean and muttered to his friend. They broke into laughter with non-subtle pointing, and Dean’s ears burned red. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and trudged to the back of the line. 

Dean still had no idea what to order, and now, all he could think about was what those two assholes might’ve said about him. Okay, so maybe he should’ve put on some better clothes, because these were wrinkled from where he’d left them on the floor last night. And yeah, he could’ve chosen jeans that weren’t ripped in the knees, or combed his hair better, or even brushed his teeth. But how was he to know he’d run into judgey McJudgersons this early in the morning?

Grumbling, Dean didn’t realize he’d gotten up to the counter until the barista pointedly cleared his throat. 

“What can I get for you, sir?”

Uh, hello Mr. Blue Eyes. Dean blinked to take in the full picture of the barista: white male, tousled brown hair, big blue eyes, artful stubble. He looked about Dean’s age, too, and he was awfully cute in that little brown apron he wore.

The barista’s lips stretched into a smile as his eyes glittered. “Sir? Can I help you?”

“Oh, um. Yeah. Hold on a second.” Dean cast around for something, anything, and his eyes latched onto an item. “Uh, a large caffe latte please.”

“Do you mean Tall or Grande?”

“Uh, whatever’s bigger?” Dean said, and the barista tried to hide a grin. 

“The Grande, then. That’ll be $3.65.”

Dean counted out the change and glanced around for Sam. The loser had already nabbed a two-person table, and he waved when he saw Dean looking. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean muttered as he shifted to the side to wait for his order. There wasn’t anyone behind him, so the cute barista who took Dean’s order also filled it. 

“Here you go, sir,” the man said as he slid a cup and napkin onto the counter. Dean thanked him and grabbed them both without looking. 

At the table, Dean sat across from Sam and finally glimpsed his coffee. The barista had created art in the foam and….

Yeah. It might’ve started out as a heart, but it was definitely a dick. Plus balls.

Sam must’ve caught Dean’s expression, because he leaned over to take a peek and promptly spat out the sip of coffee he’d just taken. 

“What the-?” he started.

Dean ignored him, and instead glanced over at the barista. The man noticed his stare and winked. 

Dean’s face flamed as he ducked his head, but not before seeing the barista motion for him to look under the mug. Dean obeyed, and found that the napkin beneath it bore a name and telephone number.

“Cas, huh?” Dean said as he read the note. His eyes found the barista’s again, and this time Dean winked back. 

Cas grinned and held up a hand to his head in the universal ‘call me’ sign. 

Dean nodded and then finally returned his gaze to his brother, who was eyeing him as if he’d grown another head. 

“You okay?” he asked.

Dean smiled. “Oh, yeah. And you know what, Sammy? I like this place. We should come here more often.”


End file.
